


old eyes

by callingCujo



Series: of countries and heroes [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Crossover, Gen, aoyama meets france, no ships, words happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-28 00:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callingCujo/pseuds/callingCujo
Summary: While his face is young, his eyes are unbelievably old.





	old eyes

He takes a deep breath, and it smells like pastries with the foul aftertaste of sewage; there’s no doubt that this is France, this is his home. Yuuga’s always traveled a lot, always been out and about, so this is one of the only times he’s truly gotten to appreciate the country in which he was born.

He’s not here alone, of course. All of UA is here with him, but Yuuga has a tendency to wander off at the best of times, and this is a situation where it’s near impossible to stick with the group. How could he, after all, when there is so much for him to see since he was last here? The streets of Paris are full and crowded, and he’s content to watch them from the cafe table he’d snagged.

The group will find him eventually, he’s sure. Iida most certainly won’t let them forget him. But he’d like to enjoy this fleeting moment for himself, take in the sight of his hometown away from the prying eyes of his classmates. Not that he doesn’t love them, of course; he does, but they are a lot to handle at times, and traveling so far has only made them rowdier than ever before. Yes, he’ll stay here and idly play with the beautiful rose the florist had given him as a gift.

The sudden presence of someone sitting next to him makes him jump, his head jerking to face the man. His outfit looks impossibly outdated, and when their eyes meet Yuuga can see that while his face is young his eyes are unbelievably old. He’s not confused, though. It’s not the first encounter he’s had with France himself, but he doubts the personified country remembers anything. 

“I’ve seen your face before, haven’t I?” The country tilts his head lightly, sporting a kind smile that almost matches Yuuga’s own. Ah, that’s right; he’s a bit of a celebrity here, being the first French student to make it into UA. “You made the news by getting into the Japanese hero school. We have plenty of fine ones here, you know.”

He says it as if Yuuga has no idea. He’s from here, he knows perfectly well that there are perfectly acceptable schools scattered all over. And, yet..

“I wouldn’t settle for anything but the best. UA was an impossible goal for me, something I never believed I’d be able to reach.” France laughs lightly, plucking the rose right from out of his hands and examining it.

“But you did, didn’t you?” He spares a glance back at Yuuga, blue eyes meeting purple for a fleeting moment. “I’m sort of proud, you’ve proven that we French aren’t as weak as people say we are.” His smile falters. Ah, but he is weak, isn’t he? He’s falling behind in his classes, at the bottom in multiple ways. 

“I’m flattered to be told such things by France himself,” he says instead of voicing his concern. Shock, then delight; both pass over the country’s face. “We’ve met before, but I expect you have a lot of encounters on the daily.”

Yuuga isn’t looking at him, so he can’t determine if anything akin to recognition flashes in his eyes. It only becomes clear when he speaks up, after just a short beat of silence. “Ah, I remember now. Didn’t you call me pretty?” His face flushes red out of embarrassment. Yes, he had done that, but it had been a long time ago, and he hadn’t half the restraint he boasted now. 

“I was only seven,” he protests, the slightest edge of a whine in his voice. “I didn’t know better than to call strangers pretty. Ah, but it was true, even if it was only later I found out why you seemed to be ethereal.” France leans back and crosses his legs, holding out the rose he’d taken fro, Yuuga. He reaches out and takes it gently, holds it close to his chest.

“In my opinion,” the country starts, “More people need to be open like that. Wouldn’t you agree? Sometimes it makes people’s day to be told they’re pretty by a stranger passing by on the street.” Yuuga supposes that’s true. If someone called him anything near good looking, he’d be head over heels for them in an instant. Ah, or maybe that’s just the affection-starved side of him. “I don’t get told that often, not by those I don’t know.”

Ah, that’s lucky. Yuuga rarely gets told that at all, whether by friends or strangers. “I don’t think many people have the courage to do that, France.”

“Francis,” he corrects. “Francis Bonnefoy.” Yuuga can only nod, going to respond but finding that Francis has begun talking again. “It really is a shame, isn’t it? That people are too afraid to be nice, I mean. The world is not a kind place, is it?”

Yuuga shakes his head lightly. “No, it’s not. I suppose you’d know better than most.” He sighs softly, at the subtle reminder that this conversation will probably mean nothing to the country, as it’s only one out of thousands, out of millions. 

He expects Francis to frown, but his peaceful smile remains fixed on his face, his kind and knowing expression somehow placating his internal worries. “It’s a lot better than it used to be. There are a lot of good people in the world, it’s only that everybody is too fixated on heroics to notice that everyone around them is just as good as any hero.”

Intrigued, he leans forward slightly. “Do you think so? It’s been a trying time for me, and the crowds of people passing by are nothing but a blur in the background by this point. I suppose I’m not looking close enough.”

Francis looks like there’s more he wants to say, but a loud yell draws Yuuga away from their quiet little bubble. Ah, so it seems Iida has found him. 

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Francis quips, standing up. “I’ll be sure to look for your name in heroics in a few years, but for now I’ll bid you a fond farewell.” And with that he’s gone, like a gentle breeze dissipating into a large open sky, only it’s more sudden and less gradual. With no other option in sight, he turns to Iida and grins. 

“Iida-kun! So nice of you to come and look for me!” he exclaims, standing up and pushing his chair in, rose clasped in his hands. He’ll be in trouble for wandering off, but somehow that seems entirely worth it. 

_ (Iida does end up lecturing him for what seems like hours, later on, but he’s unable to focus on the contents of it. His mind is completely taken up by the image of a man with a kind smile and very old eyes. _

_ He hopes they can meet again.) _

**Author's Note:**

> comments fuel me


End file.
